He Called Me Baby
by The procrastination station
Summary: Castle and Beckett come to terms with their feelings for one another and what lays ahead for their partnership. From "The Late Shaft" to the Season 2 finale and beyond.
1. For longer than you know

**Author's Note: **This was created after being swamped by inspiration from television season finales recently. The title comes from the song "Kandi" by One Eskimo, which played during the end of the "Bones" finale, but I feel like the lyrics really fit well with Castle's feelings about Beckett and Demming. Check out the song if you haven't heard it. This first chapter takes place following the events of "The Late Shaft". My apologies for spelling errors, I didn't have anyone proofread or beta this. Please, for my self-esteem's sake, review!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Castle or the lyrics to the song "Kandi".

**Chapter One: For Longer Than You Know**

Detective Kate Beckett was jealous, honest to God, no kidding jealous. And Castle? Well he was loving every minute of it.

He'd seen her jealous before. He'd seen the guarded glares shot in his direction as he flirted with models and signed women's chests (one of his favorite pastimes). He'd noticed the eye-rolls as his deep-fried Twinkie of an ex-wife called him "kitten". He'd watched with a barely contained glee as she complained about him building theory with Agent Shaw when he was supposed to be working for _her _team.

And now, well, a smart man would play his hand carefully, because Kate Beckett was special, Kate Beckett meant something, and Kate Beckett did not give in easily.

Unfortunately, Richard Castle was not a smart man.

Sleeping with Ellie Monroe had been a no brainer. She was beautiful, he was charming, she was willing, and he had the house to himself for the first time in months.

It wasn't until he was confronted with the sight of his daughter's disapproving face as she held the evidence of his brief, but satisfying relationship with Ellie, that Castle truly realized the gravity of his tumble-in-the-hay-with-a-Hollywood-starlet.

"_Really Dad?" Castle choked on the handful of popcorn in his mouth at the sight of his daughter holding a purple thong at arms length with a pair of barbecue tongs. _

"_So your grandmother's moved back in, huh?" he joked, trying to recover from his coughing fit. _

"_Dad!" Alexis was not a confrontational person by nature, but she could shoot a withering stare with the best of them._

"_What?" _

"_Gram and Kate just moved out. I was only gone a week!" The inclusion of Kate in her argument about his little liaison in the loft was not lost on Castle, but he had had bigger concerns at hand, namely an irate sixteen-year-old. _

"_I'm sorry," Castle sighed, feeling slightly deflated. He and Alexis never fought, unless you count arguing over which movie to rent, or which is better on a sundae, chocolate or caramel sauce (the answer to which is both, duh!)._

_A wave of relief washed over Castle, as Alexis's stony expression eased. Alexis heaved an overly dramatic sigh, obviously having spent far too much time with her grandmother, and began to smile._

"_These just better not belong to stepmother #2," she said, waving the offending piece of underwear in his direction. Castle returned her smile._

"_You got it," said Castle, watching as she headed for the kitchen. "I hope you're going to put those tongs in the dishwasher!"_

It wasn't until later that night, while sequestered in his study supposedly hard at work on _Naked Heat_, Castle realized the significance of their conversation.

Somehow, without really knowing it was happening, Kate Beckett had become entrenched in Richard Castle's life. Sure there were the little things he'd dismissed to himself as research: shared coffee and bearclaws, leaving the radio station she listened to on in his car, joining her at her favorite post-case hangouts. But lately, the extraordinary Kate Beckett had begun to bleed into his non-precinct life.

In the sassy, streetwise detective, Richard Castle had finally presented Alexis with a stable female adult role model (no offence to his mother). However he never expected how great of an impact said role model would have on his daughter until Alexis's internship at the precinct.

Sure, Kate had put in her two cents before when Castle had come for advice about his daughter, and yeah, Alexis had called the detective up on a few occasions seeking her opinion, but this was the first time Kate was taking an active interest in Alexis. While Castle was pleased to see his favorite detective getting along with his daughter, he couldn't help but be wary of Alexis or himself forging too much of an attachment to the NYPD's finest.

This concern was only exacerbated by the fact that they had now both stayed at each other's places (even if both occasions proved to be disappointingly tame).

During his night spent on the couch of Detective Kate Beckett, Castle had tried to pass off his desire to stay in her apartment as research. He merely wanted to delve further into the detective's head for the sake of his art, peel back more of the Beckett onion, and maybe get a chance to raid her underwear drawer. But for once he was more honest with her than he was with himself.

As ridiculous as it sounded, he had come to protect her. She wasn't his muse or just another notch on his bedpost. She was his friend, his best friend probably, and he'd be damned if she got hurt on his watch. True, his "arsenal of rapier wit" didn't stand much of a chance against an attack from a serial killer, but in his sixteen years as a father he at least knew a thing or two about how to look after another person's _emotional_ wellbeing. (i.e. Pancakes. Lots of them.)

As for Beckett's week and a half stay at Casa de la Castle, he had been surprised how natural it looked for Kate to be sitting at the breakfast table with his daughter and mother. They were _his girls _(as if he needed anymore estrogen in the house). They belonged together, sitting in their pj's, giggling like schoolgirls about some outlandish story from Martha's past.

And while Kate's presence in the loft had distracted Alexis from her grandmother moving in with Chet, the eventual departure of both ladies had had it's toll on the Castles. With just Alexis and himself, the loft seemed quiet, empty even.

It was absurd really. The two of them had been two peas in a pod from the moment Rick had clapped eyes on his daughter. They had been just fine living as a happy twosome before his mother and Beckett had intruded upon their lives.

At first Castle had chocked up the awkward silence that had befallen the loft to merely being a reaction to the loss of the one-woman show that was Martha Rogers. Things would go back to normal just fine in a few days. But as the weeks ticked by, the Martha and Kate shaped void in their lives became clearer and clearer. The loss of Martha was felt less acutely, due to her random appearances at the loft, and while his mother claimed she was merely trying to keep Chet interested, they all knew that she was having trouble adjusting to the division of their little family as well.

As for Kate, it only took eleven days under their roof for them to get used to the ungodly hours she kept, and the enormous brunches she made, and the chair she filled at the table. Shortly after Kate's departure from their apartment Alexis sadly noted that it took them twice as long to do the dishes than it did when they had Kate to dry while her dad washed and she put things in the dishwasher. It was like Kate had been the missing cog that just made their family run smoother, better.

Like with Martha, Castle had hoped that Alexis would bounce back from the detective moving out with time, but instead was shocked to see that Kate's influence in his home lingered on. Whether consciously or not Alexis had been rising at the detectives absurd time of 5:30 a.m.. Repeatedly he had caught Alexis watching baseball on television while finishing her homework. And most shockingly of all, Alexis had deemed that playing two games of Wii Tennis did not qualify as staying in shape and had begun to _jog_ afterschool. Who was this mini-Kate Beckett living in his house, and what had the detective done with his daughter?

Rick tried to not bring women home, he tried not to let Alexis get too attached to anyone, but things had gone too far this time and there was no turning back. And to be perfectly frank, Castle wasn't so sure he'd want to anyway.

When confronted with his mortality while under a mummy curse a week earlier, it didn't take a second thought for him to know who he wanted to look out for Alexis if something happened to him. He trusted Kate with his daughter, with his life, and, let's face it, with his heart. He cared for the detective, more than he had for any woman in years, and probably for longer than he'd ever want Kate to know.

So when he'd entered the precinct after the weekend Kate had moved out, and seen that the impact of the detective's time with the Castles amounted only to a brief moment of gratitude in the break room, could he really be blamed for his actions?

He'd expected too see that little jealous flare behind the detective's eyes he'd seen so many times before, when she discovered his relationship with Ms. Monroe, but instead he'd been floored by her concern over Ellie's intentions. Behind the sarcasm and the eye rolls, Kate was worried for _him_.

And yes, jumping into bed with Little Miss Hollywood, was not one of Castle's prouder moments, but he couldn't help himself. Beckett's jealousy, her concern over his well being, served as evidence that she felt at least something for him other than annoyance.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.


	2. All night long

**Author's Note: **Hey! So I'm going to try to crank this story out quickly. It should be around 12 chapters. This next one is set following the episode "Den of Thieves". It's a little shorter than the last. Please, for my self-esteem's sake, review! Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Castle.

**Chapter Two: All night long**

Sleep is a very precious thing when you're a cop, particularly when you're the most in demand homicide detective at the 12th precinct, and on call. Yet here the extraordinary Kate Beckett found herself splayed across her bed, her face lit up by the glowing neon green numbers 3:20 from her alarm clock, and very much awake.

All night long her mind had been consumed with thoughts of Detective Tom Demminig.

Not to sound cheesy or anything, but he'd appeared in the precinct gym like some kind of beacon of light amidst what was turning out to be an awful year for Kate.

Not only had her mother's case been reopened, but any answers she had hoped to gain on the mystery behind her mother's murder had died when she shot Coonan. Only months later, a serial killer had hunted her down and successfully managed to blow her apartment to smithereens destroying all her photographs of her mother she had, not to mention her large library of books (which had contained an embarrassing number of Richard Castle novels). Oh, and she'd somehow found herself as the inspiration for quite possibly the sluttiest detective to grace the pages of any mystery novel. Fantastic.

Not to say that her life was entirely horrible. She was doing surprisingly well at her job, despite having mystery writer in tow, and her team's closing rate was at a record high. She'd managed to go on a few dates, some good, some bad, but none amounting to anything tremendously notable. What few friends she had were good ones (and yes, that now somehow included her nine-year-old on a sugar rush tagalong). Still, very little in Beckett's life lay outside of the walls of the precinct.

So when the sight of a new cop in the 12th gym, with nice eyes, a kind smile, and well-built arms registered on Beckett's radar, she couldn't help but get excited.

Kate was a sensible woman. Her days of scribbling a crush's initials in her trapper-keeper and planning out forever were left back in the eighth grade. Yet she couldn't contain the giddiness that bubbled up inside her when the handsome detective smiled at her.

To say that Kate Beckett was unlucky in love was a gross understatement. Her first kiss had come from Frankie Belmonte, a boy she played Little League with, but the thrill she felt from her first encounter with a boy was short-lived as twenty minutes later she saw Frankie kiss Margaret Finch during the fourth of July fireworks. That night Frankie had gone home with a black eye, and Kate had gone home a little wiser.

Sure Kate had had her flings, but none lasted past a few months. She never let herself get too attached to any one guy, excepting her high school crush and her college boyfriend, both of whom were stolen by two of her close friends (who needless to say are no longer close or friends).

Then her mom died, and everything changed. She began to compartmentalize her life, and no guy made it past the third date. Relationships were messy, men were untrustworthy, and frankly as a newbie at the 12th she didn't have the time. That is until she met Agent Will Sorenson.

It was a dual homicide/kidnapping and both NYPD and FBI details were put on the case. Kate, recently promoted a detective, had been on the force long enough to have seen about everything. But when they had failed to rescue that child, Kate had taken it just as hard as she had her first case. Will had been a stabilizing force. Something to lean on. Something to cling to.

But while Kate was absorbed in her job, Will Sorenson _was_ his job. And try as she may, Kate would always come second to the FBI. So he had left, and broken her heart, twice.

Yes, Kate was unlucky in love, yet here she was, toying with the idea of starting the crazy cycle all over again.

To be fair, Tom Demming was perfect. Yes, the chiseled abs, and good looks, and charitable nature played a large hand in his perfection, but he was perfect even beyond that.

As a workaholic, Kate had been half-convinced she was going to die alone (probably in the empty bullpen filling out paperwork at night while drinking bad coffee). Yet here she had found a guy who was perfectly content to flirt with her over a cup of previously mentioned coffee while examining security footage at seven in the morning. He had no criminal record, loved baseball, had straight teeth, and loved kids. He had all the makings of the elusive one, which Kate was embarrassed to still believe existed.

So why had it been so easy for her to jump on board with her team, and believe he had been the dirty cop? Why did she want something to be wrong with him? Could there be such a thing as too perfect?

Kate had spent the whole night haunted by the desire she had had to find something wrong with the handsome robbery detective. She had to stop doing this. She had to stop finding reasons to shut people out of her life.

As chagrinned as she was about it, her friendship with Castle had taught her that. She needed people. She needed human connection. She needed something that wasn't connected to death. Lanie and Castle were right. She needed to get a life.

Finally, feeling slightly more at ease, Kate flipped over and made another attempt at sleep, only this time with small smile on her face.

Kate Beckett was going to give Tom Demming a chance.


End file.
